


Long Distance Confessionals

by mayoho



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Episode: s06e13 Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television, Gen, Implied Jeff/Annie, Implied Troy/Abed, Jeff is a fuck up, post-season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayoho/pseuds/mayoho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff can't sleep, so naturally he calls Abed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance Confessionals

“Jeff?” Abed sounds disoriented and mostly asleep and had still checked his caller id before taking the call. Jeff hadn’t thought that he might wake Abed up, but it’s so late at this point it’s almost early (is definitely early on the east coast); he should have.

“Hi Abed.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“That would imply I had been sleeping previously, which is, in fact, not the case.”

“Pedant. Stop. Sleeping.” Abed yawns. 

Jeff smiles to himself. He can picture Abed in his green pyjamas and sleep ruffled hair, struggling to wake up properly. Adorable is the only way to describe Abed before he’s totally awake. 

“What do you want.”

Jeff is silent for a few moments as he listens to the sound of fabric on fabric as Abed shifts around, presumably to make himself more comfortable. Jeff has no idea what Abed’s new bedroom looks like.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jeff says. He knows that won’t be enough, that he’ll have to explain himself because Abed, especially half asleep Abed, is not going to play along and fill in the gaps. Jeff steels himself. “My apartment feels really empty and I wanted to talk to someone. Guess you’re first in my contacts.”

It’s not even true; Jeff’s phone sorts by last name (and Abed with his weird robot brain probably knows that, but he won’t call Jeff out on it, will just file it away with all the other little lies Jeff has told in Abed’s presence). He had called Abed because Abed is safe--Abed always has been in a way that Jeff doesn’t really understand. 

“Okay. Do you want to talk or did you want me to talk.” Such a pragmatist--a lot like Frankie. Jeff wants to take a poll: is Frankie more like Annie or Abed? Jeff would say Abed, but he isn’t sure if other people see it. 

“I can talk.” He doesn’t want to know what Abed’s brain will come up with when it’s not even bothering with really basic inflection. “Everything seems weird without you and Annie here. No one’s talking about it, but that makes it worse; I hate it. Abed, I really miss her.” Jeff regrets the last part as soon as he says it. Regrets the words, regrets how they sound--pathetic, like he might cry. 

“I miss Annie too,” Abed says almost immediately. “It’s different for you.” 

Jeff wants to protest, but he doesn’t know what Annie has told Abed or what Abed has inferred or observed about any of his totally-not-a-thing thing with Annie. “I...” 

“You feel abandoned, and it’s even worse because you know you shouldn’t. It’s not about you, but maybe if you were more important it would be, and maybe it’s not unfair to want that, and you don’t want to be everything to someone because that’s not healthy but mostly because you can’t be good enough for that, but you want to be.” Abed makes a sniffing noise and Jeff is worried for a second that they are both going to end up crying. 

Jeff knows Abed is talking about Troy, but he’s not sure what Abed means when he draws the parallel between himself and Troy and Jeff and Annie. Britta had been really insistent for quite a while that Troy and Abed were hooking up; Shirley had thought so too. Jeff had thought they were full of shit, still does. He’s never thought about what Abed might have wanted. If he’d wanted more than Troy was willing to give him, or more than he felt able to ask for. Jeff has trouble thinking about Abed as someone who’s interested in sex or romance--normal person things. He is though, Jeff knows, isn’t as above it all as he seems. 

Jeff, rather suddenly, panics--worried that he’s been quiet for too long and Abed is going to fall asleep on him and he’ll be alone again. He says the first thing that pops into his head.

“Have you and Annie ever, you know?” Jeff is kind of mortified, but given his most recent train of thought, it could have been much worse. He’ll console himself with that fact. 

Abed laughs. It’s sharp and a bit too loud--Abed’s actual laugh that he only uses when he’s startled into it. 

“I don’t kiss and tell.” Jeff is painfully glad that Abed’s not offended or being obtuse.

“So you have kissed! No one says that when the answer is no.”

“Don’t try to lawyer me.” It almost sounds like a threat, but Jeff knows what Abed sounds like when he’s aiming for threatening. 

“You did, though. Didn’t you. When? Why?” 

“Jeff.” Abed is using his judgmental voice. Abed is the least judgmental person Jeff knows, so being judged by him basically means Jeff is really fucked up. It sucks. 

“Fine,” Jeff replies; his voice is decidedly snippy. He sighs. “Tell me about Los Angeles. How’s your job?”

Abed clearly misses Annie--in a real concrete way that Jeff doesn’t have the right to--even if he doesn’t say it. It’s there when he talks about the city, how he probably needs to get a car, how he doesn’t really talk to his roommate because she works the night shift and has a boyfriend so is basically only in the apartment when she’s sleeping. But then he talks about his job, how being a PA isn’t all that exciting but being on a TV set is, how he’s been showing people some of his stuff and how some of them seem to actually be impressed. Abed’s excitement is soothing--a jumble of words, faster and with even less inflection than usual because he’s too caught up in what he’s saying to bother with making it easier for people to understand--and he talks and talks until Jeff finally falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The season finale really made me want more Jeff & Abed. I've been thinking a lot about their relationship since Intro to Recycled Cinema, and I can't decide if the lack of clear character arcs is the best or worst thing about Community. We didn't really get any closure, but it was more real and more sad that way; I think it's for the best. 
> 
> I'm thinking of writing more of this; more nocturnal phone calls. It seems like something Jeff would keep doing, but I have to finish the disaster I started where I am trying to write a bunch of "missing scenes" from the finale from Abed's POV.
> 
> Constructive Criticism/Comments/Concerns always welcome.


End file.
